Waterways
by TiTivillus
Summary: Sam can't remember the last time he heard his brother cry, so when Dean starts unraveling without apparent reason, he's completely unprepared. Hurt/Comfort. Cursed!Dean. Hurt!Dean. Brotherly Schmoop.


**Title:** Waterways

 **Summary:** Sam can't remember the last time he heard his brother cry, so when Dean starts unraveling without apparent reason, he's completely unprepared. Hurt/Comfort. Cursed!Dean. Hurt!Dean. Brotherly Schmoop.

 **Warning:** Rated K+ for bad language.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own the boys or the show.

 **Author's note:** _The idea for the story is from an old 'Oh Sam'-LJ Comment Meme Post. I can't find the prompt anymore (otherwise I would have posted a link), but I couldn't get it out of my head, so here goes… Oh yeah, this is taking place sometime in season 11. (very slight spoilers for 11x04)_

* * *

They were in Superior, Arizona, when it all started, heat clinging to their bodies like an extra layer of skin as the dull scenery passed by in a blur of colors.

Sam was cradling his water bottle like a lifeline- uncapped and hovering mere inches from his parched lips.

The sun was a glowing hot poker, burning a bright hole into the otherwise cloudless sky and Sam couldn't for the life of him remember why they had thought coming to this godforsaken place was a good idea.

"I can't see a damn' thing," Dean swore, trying to squint out the windshield and onto the road while the sunlight kept blinding him. "Freaking witches…"

"Pretty sure that's one thing they are not to blame for," Sam's lips curled up at the corners of his mouth- the thought that Dean went as far as to blame _witches_ for the tropical climate in one of the country's hottest states was ridiculous.

"Yeah? Well, they suck anyway," Dean gave back, ineffectively wiping at his eyes, when the brightness caused his eyes to water.

He kept blinking rapidly and even from the way Sam was curled towards the passenger door- forehead pressed against the damp window glass, he couldn't help but notice the single tear cascading down his brother's heat-flushed cheeks.

"You okay, man?" Sam straightened up in his seat, frown marring his glistening forehead. "I can take over if you want."

"Because you're so much better at staring right into the sun?" Dean groused, expression sour. "No thanks, if one of us is going to wrap my car around a tree, it's gonna be me." He looked like a thoroughly pissed off stormcloud, with his eyes glinting furiously and mouth curled into a deep scowl.

And granted- maybe it was Sam's fault they had left the bunker without their brand new sunglasses- but to his defense- their old ones had been broken during Dean's epic car battle with the Nachzehrer, so technically that made him shoulder at least _half_ of the blame.

Besides, Dean had been the one to insist on driving all the way back to Lawrence in one day, without stopping to get supplies first. Which was why they were now running low on water and stranded somewhere in the bleak landscape of Arizona's precipitous canyons.

They had been lured into town by a newspaper article about 3 victims- all men in their thirties, who had died in mysterious ways. It hadn't taken them a long time to figure out there was black magic involved and even less to track down the witch who was behind it. She had been old and vengeful with magic so powerful that it put even Rowena to shame.

Needless to say, taking her down had been a _bitch_ and now all they really wanted was a cold shower to forget about the god awful Arizona heat and half a bottle of Whisky to dull their aches with.

"Dean, for the one thousandth time, I'm sorry, alright?" Sam growled back- the heat quickly sapping away at his patience. "Now will you please stop bitching before I shoot myself?"

Dean sucked in a small breath, lips pressed together as he kept his eyes trained on the windshield- unnaturally bright and glassy in the sunlight streaming in through the windshield.

He blinked again and his nose twitched, letting out a small noise that sounded like a sniffle.

 _Was he…?_

Sam's frown deepened and any residual annoyance he might have felt a second ago vanished completely from his mind. "Dean? Uh…you alright?"

"It's the freaking sun, okay?" Dean snapped, blinking furiously as a second tear spilled from his eyes and retraced the wet path lined out across his cheek. He swiped at it angrily- movements jerky and rushed in a way that was a little out of character. "I just… it's messing with my eyes and I can't freaking see the road anymore."

"Okay, listen," Sam was careful to keep his tone and expression neutral- not wanting to provoke his distraught brother any further. "How about we pull over for a second and I'll take a look at you?"

It was a testament to how crappy Dean must have felt that he complied with the suggestion.

A cold knot sat in Sam's stomach and grew tighter when Dean wordlessly pulled the car over- shoulders dropped and eyes stubbornly averted as if that could somehow hide the fact that his face was covered in tear tracks.

"My hands are dirty, so I can't really do much—" Sam apologized beforehand, using a little bit of the water in his bottle to clean the worst of the blood and grime from his fingers- before wiping them off with the inside of his jacket.

"Alright, let me see," he said, when he was ready and then instantly frowned at the wounded expression on his older brother's face.

"Hey, man, what's going on? Does it hurt that bad?" he asked in a gentle tone- utterly dumbstruck by the pain etched into Dean's features- by the glistening trail of tears that continued to stream from his eyes.

"Maybe you got some sand into them," Sam hazarded- almost like uttering a peace offering- something for Dean to latch onto and strengthen his resolves with.

His heart started racing- mind going through a mental checklist of things that could have happened to Dean- injuries Sam might have missed or hidden hex bags or…something- because this right there- well, Dean was _crying_.

And his brother _never_ cried.

Ever.

It was practically unheard of- hadn't happened in the longest of times- not even when Bobby had died, or Charlie… or when the Mark had nearly made him kill his own brother.

A single man tear, maybe... but nothing like _this._

All the terrible things that had happened to them in the past- a whole lifetime of orchestrated evil and pain and ** _loss_** and Dean had always kept up a brave front, always tried to hold it together- and now he was sitting here- in the middle of the fucking desert and having a breakdown because the sun had blinded him?

No… something couldn't be right with that picture.

"Dean… hey, c'mon man, look at me," Sam commanded and grasped his brother's shoulder with one hand- carefully as if reaching for a cornered animal.

"Can you tilt your head back a little?" Sam nudged his brother's chin up with his fingers, trying to get a good look at his eyes and not finding anything that looked out of order.

"I… I think it I'm allergic or somethin'…" Dean said miserably, voice catching in his throat.

Sam instinctively tightened his grip on Dean's shoulder- easing him backwards far enough to get a look at his face and Dean moved along pliantly, following his younger brother's lead.

"Yeah, you're right. Might be the- uh… pollen swirling around. Dad used to be allergic to ragweed, right? So it's probably just a genetic thing. Nothing to worry about."

Dean's bottom lip wobbled at the mention of their father.

"Okay, uh… how about you move over to the passenger seat and relax your eyes for a bit while I'm driving us home?"

Dean pressed his lips together- grimacing in embarrassment and it cut Sam deeply not to know what was going on inside of his brother right now and how to make the pain stop.

Logically, he could imagine that the tears were a byproduct of the exhaustion and stress they had experienced during their latest hunt but then again, Dean had seemed fine thirty minutes ago.

Sam started the car, waiting just long enough for Dean to settle against the spot he'd be resting against himself a few minutes ago before pulling back onto the road.

* * *

Dean sniffled his way through the fifteen-minute gas break and wiped his blotchy eyes with single-layer toilet paper at the truck stop while Sam was filling the Impala's tank.

The muscle-packed biker by the gas pump kept shooting Dean condescending looks- which was like adding gasoline to a wildfire and by the time they reached city limits Dean was full on crying and Sam was close to tears himself.

"I-I c-can't fucking… _s-stop,_ " Dean explained- his voice shuddery and fucking _wrecked_ all to hell from the constant strain to his throat and Sam just sat there helplessly, trying to keep his own whirlwind of emotions in check.

About halfway down the road, Sam had stopped the car and dragged Dean out into the shine of a streetlight- patting him down and searching his whole body for any hidden injuries. He had even gone as far as to partially undress Dean- right there in the middle of a fucking country lane because the fact that his brother seemed to be caught in some kind of crying fit could only be related to him bleeding out or having a stroke or something equally as terrifying.

But he came up empty- Dean was in top condition- physically, anyway.

"Look, man- if this is some sort of… if you need to _talk_ or something—"

 _'If you're having a much needed, long-overdue, absolutely well-deserved mental breakdown.'_

"I want you to know that it's _okay_ … It's really nothing to be ashamed of and—"

"S-sh-shut the fuck u-up, Sam," Dean muttered miserably- his words lacking the heat and fire they probably would have had if his nose wasn't swollen and his eyes weren't still leaking tears.

"T-this isn't volunt-tar-ry, okay? I-I'm not losing my freaking m-marbles…"

A point that would have been a whole lot stronger if Dean wasn't currently wiping his snot all over one of Sam's favorite hoodie.

"Dean…" Sam squeezed his brother's neck reassuringly- only to receive a murderous glower in return (-a murderous glower that would have been a whole lot more convincing if it wasn't thrown at him from behind a veil of miserable tears).

"St-stow t-the touchy-ffeely c-crapp, S-sam. I'm not h-h-having a melt-down, okay?"

Okay, this wasn't getting him anywhere.

Sam pulled a grimace and let out a slow breath before he shucked off his jacket and tossed it into Dean's lap. "Alright, put that on and try to sleep. We should be home in three or four hours, then I'll dig into the lore… see what I can find."

Dean grimaced- wiping at the tears and snot on his face with the back of his hand and Sam made a mental note to chuck all of their clothes into the Laundromat as soon as they had reached the bunker.

One thing was for fucking sure, whatever this was- it wasn't related to the stupid caught about 40 minutes of sleep during the drive and even lost in oblivion like that, his tears continued to fall.

* * *

Dean caught about 40 minutes of sleep during the drive and even lost in oblivion like that, his tears continued to fall.

That was how Sam figured that whatever they were dealing with couldn't possibly be anything _natural_.

Because sure, they had issues, _loads_ of them. But not even they were screwed up enough to cry in their sleep.

He stopped at a corner store about one hour away from the bunker- stocking up on water, Ginseng tea, headache pills and five extra-large packages of super-soft tissues, before heading back to the car to find Dean awake and miserable in the passenger seat.

One bottle uncapped and ready- Sam forced his brother to drink some water- because he was going to dehydrate if he kept holding the floogates open.

"You uh… feeling okay?" Sam asked, trying not to let his concern show too much. "Apart from the—" he gestured helplessly at Dean's face and then felt like a fool for not handling this any better.

In the back of his mind he couldn't help thinking that if their roles were reversed, Dean would have no problem finding the right words to comfort him. His older brother had always been better at the whole reassurance thing.

"F-fine…"

It was a lie and they both knew it.

Dean's head must have been killing him by now from all the crying he had done- his eyes were puffy and bloodshot and probably burning- and judging from the angry red tone on his cheeks and nose, Sam figured that his skin must have felt like it was gonna fall off any minute.

"Is there anything I can do?" Sam offered gently and this time, when Dean swallowed- another tear falling from his lashes and soaking his faded jeans, Sam felt like it was somehow his fault.

"N-no…" his face scrunched up even further and he muffled a cackling, wet cough into his elbow- saliva and snot having clogged his airways after hours of misery.

Dean tried to take Sam's hoodie off and got all tangled up in the thick black fabric until Sam reached over to gently slide his arms free.

"Easy, hey… you're gonna make yourself sick, Dean. Try to calm down."

"I's not… l-like I w-want… t-to, smartass!"

"Yeah, I get it," Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I think the freaking witch might have cursed you somehow before we ganked her… possibly a crying spell."

"Y-Ye th-think?" Dean's breath hitched- the noise gurgling up in his throat sounding suspiciously like a sob and Sam reached over to squeeze his shoulder in reassurance.

"It's gonna be alright, Dean. We'll find a way to break it."

* * *

"What's wrong with him?" Cas asked them as soon as they came down the stairs of the map room- Sam holding up most of Dean's weight- as if the sadness was literally weighing down on his shoulders.

Sam's shirt was totally soaked as he tried to block as much of Dean's swollen, blotchy face from the angel's sight as possible.

"Uhh… we don't know for sure, but it's probably black magic. I'm gonna try and find a counter spell in the library once I got him settled.."

"I don't understand—"

"Look Cas," Sam turned around with a heavy sigh- losing his hold on Dean for a second and nearly sending him falling to the ground in the process.

"Woah, woah—hey, I got you—" he quickly wrapped a protective arm around Dean's middle and scooped him even closer against his own waist- running his fingers through Dean's sweat soaked spikes and grimacing at the heat radiating from his forehead.

Cas took a step forward "He seems unwell- let me try and use my grace to—"

"I said **_no_** , Cas," Sam snarled, words coming out harsher than intended.

He knew Cas was only trying to help them, but Sam was 99,999% sure that whatever they were dealing with, wasn't something they could fix with a swipe of the angels fingers and Dean was already embarrassed enough as it was.

So bringing Castiel into the mix and exposing Dean to the angel when he was unraveling like this just wasn't in the cards.

No, whatever was going on here, was gonna stay between the two of them.

"Sorry, Cas, it's been a really long day... I got him… just… can you give us some space, please?"

Cas looked genuinely hurt there for a second, eyes wide and unblinking as he hesitantly took a step back. "Of course... You know where to find me if you change your mind."But Sam shoved his rising guilt away in favor of his brother's misery.

Sam sighed but swallowed his rising guilt down. He was gonna talk to Cas later. Explain what happened.

But Dean came _first_ and for tonight, the rest of the world would just have to take a backseat.

* * *

"Hey, how are you holding up, man?" Sam crouched down before Dean's bed- his face dipped into the pale light of Dean's laptop screen.

"S-stop c-coming to check o-on…me e-every five min-nutes."

Sam smiled, hair falling into his eyes as he sheepishly lowered his head.

He had found a counter spell about an hour ago and used it on Dean, but according to the description, it took a while for the effects to fully wear off.

Dean was propped up on three of their fluffiest pillows- a grilled cheese sandwich and a whole can full of Ginseng tea on his nightstand.

He was still shivering- still sniffling miserably and wiping at his eyes every now and then- probably more in phantom pain than anything else now that the spell was thankfully wearing off.

"Do you… wanna be alone?"

"N-no, I w-wanna t-talk ab-bout our feel-lings and c-cry so-ome more," Dean said sarcastically and trapped Sam in a murderous glare- which caused the younger man to look away, swallowing thickly.

"You know, if you do need to talk- about _anything_ at all—"

"Sam!" Dean snapped, voice breaking on his name.

Sam pressed his lips together and bobbed his head in silent understanding. "Alright… I'll leave you to it then," he straightened up slowly- knees creaking at the movement.

He tried not to let his hurt show- the rejection after hours of having to stand by and listen in on his brother's pain nearly causing his own emotions to overflow.

His steps turned hurried but just as he reached the doorway, Dean's creaky, tear-filled voice called him back. "S-sammy, wait."

He froze- twisting his torso just far enough to send a glance back over his shoulder. "Need anything?"

Dean sniffed, blew his nose and goddamn it but he looked worse than ever before.

"'S-sorry f-for being a j-jerk."

Sam slowly turned around and sank down on the other side of Dean's memory foam- shoving a pile of scrunched up, tissue balls to the floor with his legs to make some space.

"You're always a jerk. Not exactly breaking news," Sam gave back with a soft smile.

"You really thought I-I'd lost it, d-didn't y-you?" Dean snorted- but it wasn't a real laugh- didn't reach his eyes or lighten up his face like it did when he was joking.

It was a gurgled sound, caught somewhere between a moan and a sob and when Sam gently nudged him with his leg under the blankets- scooting close enough to drape an arm around his shoulder, Dean didn't even try to put up a brave front. He instantly melted against his younger brother's frame and let out a long shuddering breath that deflated his whole body- head to toe.

It took a few seconds.

Sam held perfectly still when the soft hitching breaths started up again- his long fingers curling into the worn fabric of the hoodie Dean was wearing.

"Hey, hey, shh…" Sam clutched at his brother's back- feeling the hard expense of it quiver and shake with heartbreaking sobs- his own shirt and skin growing damp with a flood of tears that- for the first time in all day - had nothing to do with a spell at all. "I got you, man. Just relax."

 _Just let go, Dean. For once in your goddamn' life let it go._

 ** _The End._**

* * *

Hey _guys! Hope you enjoyed this little piece! :) I know my usual stuff is more Hurt!Sam but I was craving Crying!Dean and well... this whole thing just kinda happened. Please drop me a line if you liked it! Reviews totally make my day!_


End file.
